


to reconnect.

by Ursa_Tattoo



Series: Undarboys AU [20]
Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: (it takes place in the undarboys timeline but the actual boys themselves aren't in here), Alternate Universe, Character Development, Family Bonding, Family Reunions, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Immortality, Multi, Old Wounds, Redemption, Resentment, Returning Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursa_Tattoo/pseuds/Ursa_Tattoo
Summary: Rex Dangervest has spent long enough ignoring his home timeline. It's time to go home, and try to make peace.(Takes place within the Undarboys AU, but subtly. The Undarboys are between me and rnainframe on tumblr.)
Relationships: Rex Dangervest/Cosmo Armstrong/Detective Powers (implied), Watevra Wa'Nabi/Bruce Wayne
Series: Undarboys AU [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599121
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	to reconnect.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a long one! it's within the undarboys universe if you squint, but cosmo and powers don't show up. it's just rex making peace with his demons.
> 
> it also includes a little headcanon that goes with the undarboys stuff: time travelers don't physically age outside of their base timeline.
> 
> enjoy!

It’s a quiet day in Syspocalypstar when he comes back. When he finally returns to his home timeline. He can feel the subtle shift in the air that comes with being back here, the feeling of his frozen timelessness melting, his body once again subject to the ravages of time. Not that it’s likely to matter. He won’t be staying permanently, not after so long. But he’s on a mission. Thousands of plans later, thousands of experiences with facing oblivion, fading away to nothing, finding something better... It’s changed him. He’s a new man, better than the old Rex.

And that means he needs to take responsibility.

He’s cloaked as he moves through town, hands in his pockets. Going unseen in the place where he was ever ignored strikes something painful in him, but he can shove it— ...no, he can accept it. It hurts, but he’s... dealing. Letting himself feel it, and moving forward.

There’s a statue of Emmet, over on the edge of town, and Rex is unable to resist the urge to stop there and look over it.

The statue is carved from crystalline limestone, the orange crystal casting a warm light on the surroundings. A fitting material, for a construction worker turned hero. A useful stone, turned to a gem. The Emmet in the statue has the Piece of Resistance in his hand, and a smile on his face, his posture enthusiastic and inviting. At the base, the words carved into it curve across, filled with what looks like platinum to make them easier to pick out.

_Emmet Brickowski.  
_ _The Special._  
_He is survived by those who love him.  
_ _Gone, But Not Forgotten._

The feeling in the pit of Rex’s stomach is near impossible to identify, seeing the younger version of his own face smiling, the well kept statue declaring that he was never abandoned on purpose.

The tears pricking at the corners of his eyes are much easier to place, and he thumbs them away before they get the chance to become anything bigger.

_Come on, Dangervest. You’re here with a purpose._ Rex takes a breath, steeling himself. If he gets like this with every reminder of the past, every sign that his ache for vengeance was never justified at all, he’ll never be able to move forward.

He turns his back on the statue, moving towards his real target.

The merge between Systar and Apocalypseburg was far from seamless, Rex saw every messy second from his place worlds away on Undar, but after these years, it’s a fairly clean blend. The Systarian palace, though, is a bit more of a mix, the pristine Systar grace of the queen blending with the dark, gothic aesthetic that belongs to the king. The sight sparks emotions in Rex, but not any he knows what to do with, and he enters invisibly, seeking out one person in particular.

Queen Watevra Wa’Nabi, when found, is in a more fluid form, speaking to a group of children about the history of Syspocalypstar, illustrating her points by shapeshifting at will.

“—and that’s how we finally came to a truce after years of strife!” Her amorphous form settles into its typical fluid presentation, shifting around as the children take in the information.

One of the kids, a former sewer baby with glitter on their cheeks, raises a hand. “So it was really that easy?”

Watevra nods with a little smile. “Once we got everything settled, everyone was really reclusive— ...receptive. They were understanding. It was always just a miscommunication, and we all made up for it and helped everyone who got hurt.”

Rex is unseen, but the words make him bristle, just slightly.

One of the other kids speaks up, a little Systarian similar to Mayhem, with shimmery violet skin and a messy tuft of silvery hair. “What happened to people who didn’t like the merge?”

Watevra waves off the question. “Everyone settled in happily, once things got explained. No one had to lose anything.”

Rex feels his bitterness rising to twist his guts, and his fists clench.

He knows the kids ask more questions before that pretentious ice cream cone leads them out, but he can only hear Watevra’s words echoing. _We helped everyone who got hurt. No one had to lose anything._

Watevra waves at the kids, softly sighing and slumping a bit once they’re gone, relaxing in what she perceives as solitude. Rex’s fingers twitch as he taps his logo on his vest, the hidden button there dropping the cloaking at his touch.

Rex had meant to come into this with a little humility. A little humanity. But old wounds leave deep scars, and he’s angrier than he thought he’d be.

“So, happily ever after, eh?” His tone is bitter, and Watevra’s colors ripple in surprise at not being alone. “Perfect happy ending for everyone?”

Watevra’s gaze holds only confusion, no recognition, but he hadn’t expected her to realize the truth. Not with all that’s changed, with only ever seeing him through the cameras on invading Systarian ships.

“How did you get in here?” Watevra looks over Rex’s rough appearance, tousled into the perfect image of a punk rebel. He sticks out against the gleaming surfaces in the palace like snow in summer, but he pays it no mind.

“I’ve got my ways. Can’t tell if you’re dumbing things down for the kids, or if you _really_ think everything is that simple.” He’s trying not to sound hurt, not now, so his bitterness comes out scathing.

“It’s... Of course nothing is that simple. But they’re children.” Watevra frowns, keeping her distance. “I take it you’re not from around here?”

“No, I am. It’s just been a while.” Rex’s hands are shoved in his pockets to keep him from fidgeting, from showing weakness, not to the enemy—

...he’s still thinking of her as the enemy. There’s something stormy in his expression, but Watevra can’t possibly know why, and she continues.

“You’re from Apocalypseburg... Of course. It’s hard to believe if you didn’t watch, if you weren’t here.” She doesn’t approach, clearly a little wary of him. An old relic from a time long passed, still capable of doing harm.

He can’t bring himself to stay quiet. “I saw every moment. I watched it all. Didn’t get an invite to the wedding, though. Must be too exec—“ No, wrong word. “—exclusive.”

There’s something odd in Watevra’s eyes, and he can’t meet them, looking away and crossing his arms to continue looking tough.

“...do I know you? You seem... familiar.” Watevra looks curious, unsure, but Rex doesn’t look to see it.

“You’ve never met me.” He glances at her, only to see her moving closer.

“No, you...” Watevra moves a little closer to Rex, but Rex steps away. “...if you saw everything, why are you so angry about it? If you know all of the good that’s come since?”

He means to bite his tongue, but his bitterness loosens his lips. “I know someone who never got any of that good. Someone who lost _everything_ to Systar, and never got anything back from you for it. So I know all too well that the ‘happily ever after’ isn’t true for everybody.”

Rex’s festering anger feels sickly in his gut. He didn’t come here for this. He thought he’d be okay, face to face with her. It was never intentional, he shouldn’t still feel like this.

“It’s _you,_ isn’t it. You’re the one who got hurt.” Watevra’s always been clever, even if Rex wishes she wasn’t. “I can offer you anything you want, if it’ll help. Just say the word, and I’ll fulfill your wildest dreams.”

He laughs, but it’s a harsh, humorless sound. “You can’t give me my old life back. Not everything can be solved with some personal attention, just because everyone’s ‘special’.” He spits out the word, but the dawning in Watevra’s eyes makes his stomach freeze to ice in an instant.

She moves over to him cautiously, and he thinks he knows what she’s going to say. His old name, the one that reminds him of the ache he came to fill.

But she doesn’t.

“...dad? You’re... you’re alive?” She sounds so vulnerable that it hurts, and Rex goes still. ...she still thinks of him as her dad?

He looks at her, answering her question with the twisting emotion in his eyes. “...I...”

Amorphous or not, she’s surprisingly fast, and within moments, Rex has Watevra, first and only queen of Systar and Syspocalypstar, clinging to his chest and burying herself into him. He blinks, unable to process this, and her big blue eyes, swimming with tears. look up to meet his sharp green ones.

“Ev-everyone thought you were...” She looks distraught, and the look on her face is one he’s seen in the mirror in his darkest moments: nothing less than raw, unfiltered guilt. His remaining anger melts, leaving him looking tired, and he wraps his arms around her. It’s the first time he’s hugged Watevra. The first time he’s held his _daughter._

“...no, kid, I’m alive. Different, but alive.” He drops the half laughter, the bravado, voice softening into something natural. Not quite Emmet, it’s lower, but it’s easier to recognize. Watevra cuddles into his arms, and he adjusts himself to try and hold her better.

She sniffles a little. “...what happened to you? You look...” He knows all of the words that fill in that blank. “...rough.”

“...it’s a long story, kid.”

“Can I hear it anyway?” She looks almost pleading, and Rex can feel it plucking at his recently restored heartstrings.

He smiles, just barely. “...guess it couldn’t hurt.” He clears his throat, shifting her into one arm to gesture with the other. “So, there I was...”

-

It really is a long story, but Watevra listens to every moment. He doesn’t mention everything, not every moment, but he mentions enough. The kidnapping. The attempted rescue. The crash. The isolation. The attempts to fix it. The transition from defeated to vengeful. The new persona. The do-overs. The fading. The people who showed him how to care again.

Watevra doesn’t say much during the story itself, only speaking to ask questions, but once he’s done, caught up to the present, she looks at him with something sad in her eyes, something wiser than her years.

“...so this _is_ my fault.” The guilt and pain in her voice makes him ache, and he cups her face.

“...no, kiddo. I made my choices. Weren’t always smart ones, but I made ‘em. There’s nothing you can do about that.” It’s taken all too long for him to come to terms with that reality, with the fact that he can’t just shove the blame on everyone else.

“But... if I hadn’t sent Mayhem...”

He shakes his head. “You can’t control what happened, Watevs. Things are what they are.”

She sniffles, burying her face into his chest again. “...so why did you come back? Are you here to stay?”

He sighs. “...I’m here to make up for things. I... haven’t been a good dad to you. But I can’t stay.”

There’s hope in her at his words, but it deflates when he says he can’t stay. “Why not? You could be happy here. Like I said, dad, you can have everything you want.”

He shakes his head, petting her to soothe her. “I can’t. ...I fell in love while I was gone. And I can’t be around for them if I stay here.” He pauses. “...this place is the only one where I’ll age. But they won’t, not here. So I can’t stay.”

Watevra looks out down the hallway, towards where Rex can faintly hear the sounds of talking and laughter, some familiar and others less so. Her expression holds something undefined, and Rex knows that no matter what point of time he’s seen an alternate Watevra in, she’s never looked any older. “...I understand.”

He looks at her with equal understanding. “...I won’t be here all the time, but I’ll be here. Won’t fade away. Just a call away.”

She weakly smiles. “...I appreciate it.” She nestles into him a little more. “...I always wanted to know you. I... I hoped that Mayhem would bring you back here too, so I could. But then you were gone.”

Rex is silent for a bit. “...I spent a long time trying not to... accept this. Because if I’m your dad, then that means...” It means he’s too similar to his _own_ father. Living apart from his child, neglectful, only to view them as an enemy, an obstacle, once they’re grown. “...that I’m following some... not so great footsteps.”

She looks a bit disheartened. “...oh.”

He continues. “...but things changed. I’m your dad, no doubt about it. And you’re my daughter. And that means I’m going to actually _be_ a dad. I don’t know how, yet, but I’m a quick learner.”

Watevra gives a watery smile, clinging onto him. “...that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” She leans up, pressing a little kiss to his cheek. “...I love you, dad.”

A long time ago, he would’ve shoved down the honest answer. Not anymore. “...I love you too, kiddo.”

Rex stays nestled with his daughter in his arms for a long time, comfortable in the quiet.

And then it’s interrupted.

“My queen, Dick is asking for— what the heck.” Batman, in the full cowl and everything, squints at Rex, and Watevra turns to smile at her husband.

“Oh, Brucie!” She doesn’t heed Batman’s immediate objection and grumbling about secret identities. “This is my dad, I think you’ve met!”

Batman squints at Rex, and Rex can’t help but respond with a cocky smirk.

“...that’s not possible.” Batman’s tone is flat and skeptical, and Rex can feel him scrutinizing, comparing the similarities between Rex and Emmet and deciding they’re not enough.

Watevra’s about to speak, but after all this time? Rex just can’t resist the urge to mess with Batman. He never particularly liked him anyway.

He clears his throat to use the Emmet voice, but with Rex-typical snark. “Come on, _Brucie,_ aren’t you supposed to be some kind of detective?”

Batman’s eyes widen at the voice before narrowing. “The world’s _greatest_ detective.”

Rex smirks. “I’ve known better.”

Batman bristles at the attack on his pride, and Watevra has to talk him down, but Rex is just basking in the warmth of the little victory.

But his little spike of pride is interrupted as he refocuses on the conversation.

“—I don’t _care_ that Dick missed him, he can’t just stay here—“ Batman’s grumpy tirade gets cut off by Rex.

“Ah, yeah, how’s the kid doing?” He’s got no resentment for Robin, never did, but he remembers the kid as an enthusiastic little tyke, and there’s a part of him that wonders who he’s grown into.

Watevra speaks instead of Batman, beaming brightly. “Oh, he’s just a little angel! He’s been growing up so much, but he’s still just as sweet as ever even now that he’s a teenager. I’m sure he’d love to meet his grandpa properly!”

Rex blinks at the thought. He’d had a sort of honorary uncle status prior to Undar, and the idea of being the kid’s legal grandfather is... weird. “...I’ve met him, and I think I’d just want him to keep calling me uncle.”

Batman’s still squinting. “Okay, ‘Emmet’, just because Watevs trusts you—“

“It’s Rex now, you suspicious a—“

The sound of feet rushing in makes him cut himself off, and there’s Dick Grayson himself, eyes still bright as ever, but in a new suit that Rex doesn’t recognize. It’s dark blue, a little more like his father’s, but still distinct. He’s taller, hair a little darker from having grown into a teen, but still recognizable.

“Hey padre, did you ask mamá about—“ He blinks, seeing his father riled, and an unknown man hugging his mom.

Rex clears his throat, nodding a little awkwardly. “‘Sup, kiddo.”

The look on Dick’s face could light up whole cities, and he rushes over to join Watevra in embracing Rex tight. “Uncle Emmet!! You’re back!!!”

Rex is a little surprised at being recognized so fast, but considering how Dick’s changed over the years, aesthetic darkening and changing, maybe it’s just something he can understand. Rex lightly fluffs his hair.

“...yeah, I am. It’s Rex now, but I’m back, Robin.” Rex’s words are met with a bright grin.

“It’s Nightwing now! I’m a hero on my own!” Rex gives Batman a skeptical little glance at that, but Batman responds with a nod.

“Guess we’re both different, huh?” Rex gives a lopsided sort of smile, and Nightwing beams.

“Yeah! Now the whole family’s back together!”

Rex stills. Family. ...he... has a family here. He looks at his daughter, at his sort of nephew, at Batman’s all too familiar look of pretending not to care, and there’s something warm in him that he can’t suppress.

And that warmth beads up in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks as he laughs, the tears not stopping as he holds Watevra and Nightwing close.

“Dad, are you okay?” Watevra’s concern cuts through his stupor, and he nods.

“Never been better, kiddo. ...you guys are gonna have to meet my half of the family sometime. But not yet. I think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

As his nephew bubbles up with questions, and as his daughter nuzzles into his chest, Rex can be honest with himself, and he feels a little closer to being whole.


End file.
